Spiegel
by Togale
Summary: Reckless, up to his neck in debt demon slayer Dante gets a message straight from the depths of hell. Can he find his way into the demon realm to find his thought to be lost brother? Abandoned in hell, what did become of Vergil?
1. Prologue

Title: _**Spiegel**_

Fandom: Devil May Cry Series

Disclaimer: I do not own DMC3 or any of Cap Com's work

Characters: Dante & Vergil mostly, Lady, Trish

Warnings: Language, violence, blood & gore, some angst, a slightly different picture of hell than a certain book taught us (no religious flames please) - that's about it. In case I missed something, it will be updated in the upcoming chapters.

Summery: Reckless, up to his neck in debt demon slayer Dante gets a message straight from the depths of hell. Can he find his way into the demon realm to find his thought to be lost brother? Abandoned in hell, what did become of Vergil?

Series chronology: The story is taking place after the Animated Series, (meaning after DMC3, DMC1, Anime) although I won't mention Patty. She won't be necessary for the plot and, quite frankly, I simply dislike her - D: please don't lapidate me! That said, the given setting is: Dante already fought Vergil (Nelo Angelo), Lady and Trish. Hmm, it should be mentioned that I pictured Dante younger that he was in DMC1, closer to DMC3 in case you wonder about certain behaviors. Story takes place before he travels to Fortuna, so… sorry guys, no Nero involved. Buhu!

* * *

**Prologue**

_DANTEE_… Gravity proved itself as being as powerful as ever, as Dante was suddenly yanked awake and shifted his balance point out of the awkward position he had been dozing in. What had been supposed to be a startled yelp, ended up as a harsh intake of less oxygen and more lukewarm bathwater. Slippery hands clawed at the edge of the tub and pulled his upper body back into a vertical position. Coughing and spitting, Dante swiped his now soaking hair out of his face and looked around suspiciously. It must have been his imagination playing tricks on him again. A voice – no, not just any voice; his voice, as harsh as a lingering nightmare, so piercing, that it had jerked him out of his slumber. Dante leaned back once more and closed his eyes with a sigh. _Great, now I'm becoming paranoid as well_. _Just what I needed, really._

He glanced at the lazy swirls of steam rising to the ceiling through half-lidded eyes. The walls, somewhat dirty with a yellow coating and black spots of mold blooming along the seams, were covered in thousands of small water droplets. Humidity added to them, made them flow together and down the tiles, until they accumulated into heavy drops of cold water and ended back up inside the tub. Not long now and the bathwater would get cold. The chilly air raised goose bumps on his arms that hung carelessly over the brim of the bathtub to prevent another suffocating experience. The wind howled outside and rattled at his old windows, made them crash closed, only to yank them open again a moment later to repeat the cycle over and over. He couldn't get them to close anymore since last year but never made the effort to fix them; let alone to pay someone else to do that for him. Why bother? That thought crossed his mind more often lately.

Business was slow, down to the point where you could call it non-existing. The old telephone on the antique mahogany desk hadn't disturbed the silence in the office in ages. It was rather depressing. That had been different, though. Since the resurrection of Temen-ni-gru, demon hunting business was booming. Every day, new faces appeared in the city, hunting for fame, money, or simply the thrill of chasing after the unknown. At first, Dante had been drowning in phone calls and desperate clients. The nights had been busy and the days flew by in a rush, leaving no time for regrets or worries.

But slowly, things had changed. It had started with an unsuspicious letter, which Dante had never read. It had been lost between a bunch of other white envelopes and, at some point, had found its way into the trash, most likely after one of the infamous clamors of the two young women at the office. Trish and Lady had come by frequently at that time. Business was good enough two share most of the jobs and if the three of them were working together, there was no offer they would have to refuse. Not that Dante would have refused anything. Sometimes, he just felt like some company.

The first letter had been followed by two more and each of them had a similar content with a slightly different wording, which became more and more impending. Oblivious to all of that, Dante had opened the door to his office one morning, to be confronted with two black suits and another letter. This time, he couldn't ignore it any longer. That had been the infamous day the devil hunter Dante had been arrested. He had been charged with the destruction of the city, caused by Temen-ni-gru, as well as the 213 fatalities the resurrection of the tower had caused and things had looked grave. With Vergil gone, no one would believe the story about an evil twin brother who had raised a demonic tower to return to the demon world.

Lady and Trish testified as well but in the end, it remained one of the most spectacular and questionable cases of all time. After being under arrest for several weeks during the process, Dante had been set free but what remained was the horrendous sum he had to pay as compensations. He had never seen so many zeros in his life. If Lady hadn't helped him back then, Dante hadn't known how to repay such a huge amount of money.

From that day on business had changed. The girls were still trying to help him but Dante didn't repay them with gratitude. He felt betrayed and since the lone nights in prison, he finally had found time to reflect on the things he and his twin brother had done. It left him with a single, burning regret: he had let Vergil, his only family, fall into hell to be lost forever.

Vergil. He had lost his brother three times now but the last time had such a final feeling to it that it made him swallow hard every time he remembered his last heroic show down with Nelo Angelo. Vergil was gone.

* * *

"Dante!" Lady came into the office. For such a young and petite person, one would be amazed how much temper was hidden under the surface. She made her way over to the desk, where Dante was sleeping away the evening. The hunter didn't move. She grabbed the lower boot clad foot of her friend and lifted it from the desk until the young hunter lost his balance and toppled backwards with a surprised gasp. He didn't fall though. Dante's reflexes were even in such an intoxicated state able to save him from a disgraceful meeting with the dirty floorboards. In the last moment, Dante kicked his other leg out to jam it below the desktop and regain his balance. One lost fight against gravity was enough for one day. It took him a slurred, unintelligible curse to finally face his angry business partner.

"What do you want?" he barked at her, unwilling to give up his favorite position at his desk. Instead he pulled at his captured leg, until she let go again. It fell back onto the desk with a loud thud. The smell of whiskey lingered between them. All Lady needed was a short look beneath the desk to spot the carelessly thrown empty bottles there.

"What do I want? Are you serious, you drunk fool? What happened to the job I gave you this morning?"

"Done that," came the not less slurred reply.

"'Done that' when? Before or after the demon tried to skin our client alive?" Her loud voice was jabbing knifes into his brain, she could tell by the way he cringed.

"Theaa wasn' a bloody demon. All theaa was 's a scares girl, who wanted me to hunta stupid shadow…" He put a hand over his closed eyes.

"And you did what? Went to hunt some Jack instead?" The corners of his mouth pulled into a grin to that accusation. "You better do your job and hunt those shadows down next time. Our client was attacked this afternoon and if you still believe her shadow went into the kitchen and attacked her with a knife, you can stay here and drown the rest of your brain cells in cheap whiskey. Otherwise move your sorry ass out there and track down that demon!" The grin was wiped from his face instantly. He heard her turn around and walk to the door. "Oh, and one more thing. If you show up to a job I gave you drunk ever again, I'll personally riddle your half demon body with bullets until even demonic healing can't save you anymore." And the door fell closed again.

* * *

Human bodies were a frail thing, Dante thought. After he had stumbled into his bathroom in the back of his office, shoved two fingers down his throat and a long, rather chilly shower, he had finally made his way back outside again. By then, it had been night and the streets had been mostly empty. He had found his way back to the young woman's home. There had been traces at the door, traces of a break-in. She must have called the ambulance but hadn't been able to open the door afterwards. It would need some fixing later. Dante had opened it silently and moved inside the apartment. He had inhaled deeply and let his nose guide him into the kitchen. There had been blood on the floor, a lot of it. Skinned alive, he had thought. The smell of the demon had still lingered behind. Cursing under his breath, Dante had left the apartment again. It had taken him all night to hunt down the demon that had attacked the young woman. She wasn't the only victim but she was the only client he had had this week. And he had failed. Ebony and Ivory had been enough to finish the creature from hell; a demon that would hunt down its victims to eat their skin, leaving them behind to bleed to death. How could he have dismissed it as a made-up story? It was true, that they had to deal with those a lot. People were making things up and since demon attacks got worse since Temen-ni-gru, those made-up stories increased as well. Separating the lies and rumors from the real missions was part of the job. He had messed up. It became painfully clear to him as he sat next to the bed of the young woman he had seen this morning. He couldn't recognize her anymore. If she would survive, she would remain disfigured for the rest of her life. A part of him wished she wouldn't survive. He hated that part.

* * *

**A/N:** It's been a while! I haven't been just lazy. In fact, I've been writing stuff since I finished _'l sol tace_ but most of it was part of an OC story I'm writing with my childhood friend since… well childhood really. BUT I got other things to share with you. This, e.g. will be a multi chapter story in the dimension of _'l sol tace_. Luckily, I found a beta for it. Thank you bitbyboth! If you haven't already, please go and read her stories.

Which brings me to a _**request**_: I am working on two different stories right now, which still are in need of a good **beta** reader. The fandom is FinalFantasy VIII, both Seifer/Squall centered with very different settings. One is the typical post game scene with lots of magic, GFs, sorceresses, Chocobos and all the stuff we love, the other is an AU story, more like a high school drama really, with all the other stuff one would like to read… *cough* (harassment, cruelty, social awkwardness, the struggle to blend into society… you get the picture)  
Both stories need someone who would like to invest a bit of time. Both have very different topics to work on. For the first one, I'm going to need someone who has played the game (oh really?), who has fun while getting lost in the mechanics of game play, like the junctioning system, draw points, gunblades… and of course keeping an eye on the main characters so they'll stay in character.  
If you are more interested in the second one, I'm going to need someone who will get assaulted with a bunch of questions about typical high school stuff. From very basic stuff like "what does a typical high school day look like in terms of time management etc" to more specific topics and discussions about social harassment and bullying. – oh yeah, and sports… football most likely… I'm rather fascinated with the whole sports dynamic on American high schools. It's so very different from what we got here. – maybe it's just my imagination, so I'll have a lot of questions about that too. So!  
**IF** you are interested in any of that **or** know someone who might be, drop me a line below, send me a PM, drift bottle, smoke signal… your choice. It's hard to find someone who played the "old games" these days! D: Gosh I'm old! Thanks for reading!

~amoralisch/Togale


	2. Chapter I

_**Spiegel**_

**Chatper I**

* * *

When Dante came home, Lady was already waiting. Also, when Dante came back home, Lady was already pissed off. That told him that she had gotten wind of his last-supposedly-lucrative job. Well, supposed to be was the caveat here. Rebellion found its way into the wall right behind his desk. For the lack of proper mounting, the sword had been pierced into the wall some while ago, and now slid into the gaping crack effortlessly. Ebony and Ivory clattered onto the desktop and right next to them came down two heavy, muddy leather boot clad feet. The young woman on the red leather couch watched her so-called business partner, who was already pretending to be asleep to avoid any kind of conversation. He wouldn't have such luck with her.

"Got anything you wanna tell me?" she asked and crossed her arms in front of her chest. She had spent some time inside his office already, waiting for Dante to return but the hunter had kept her waiting. She didn't feel uncomfortable inside his home, as long as it wasn't in too chaotic a state, in fact, it could be quite relaxing sometimes. As if to demonstrate that, she placed one of her steel capped combat boots onto his coffee table, exposing the pale skin of the insides of her legs. The only thing keeping wandering eyes in check were those skintight shorts under her too short skirt that reminded Dante of a relict from her school uniform every time he looked at her.

"No," he kept his answer as short as possible. Better not add fuel to the fire. He could feel it burning already, no need to heat it up even more.

"No, of course not. Mind giving me the money you owe me?" The money, it always came down to the money. Yes, he owed her money, more than he thought he could possibly ever earn to repay her, but he had his own problems too and even though he tried to keep them buried and hidden, women were supposed to have a sixth sense for something like that, right? Not this one. Oh, she could sniff out every last penny he had, alright. That was her special power.

"No money, sweetheart. Not today." He kept his eyes closed and kept his voice low. He could hear her coming over to him, sitting next to him on the desk. The heat was closing in, but was still blazing underneath. He could tell by what was supposed to be her casual tone.

"Were have you been?" He took a deep breath. The smell of gunpowder and oil always lingered around her. He liked that smell.

"Hunting." He didn't have to look to notice her attention directed at his desk. Lady had a thing for guns and she always had been interested in those heavily customized twin guns. His left foot uncrossed his right and slammed down right next to Ivory, blocking her sight.

"Did you kill those demons?" She already knew that he hadn't finished the job. There had been word, that their client had a contract with a different mercenary now.

"Sent them back where they came from, each of them with a good bye kiss from those two." His foot nudged the white gun.

"Why?" There was disbelief in her voice and he knew where it came from. She didn't believe him a liar. She knew he had killed those demons if he said so. The thing was, he had done it for free. "What happened?"

"I'm not exactly the most popular guy out there right now, Lady. Killer of over two hundred people, the man who brought a bunch of demons into this city, the guy who raised this big ass tower and caused a whole district to collapse… any of that ringing a bell? Not the kind of guy I would hire to protect my daughter from a bunch of demons." He had heard some nasty things and accusations since the whole Temen-ni-gru business had started. People didn't forget so fast, not with all the evidence still lurking around them. "What? You asking me why I killed them anyway? Isn't one flayed girl enough?"

"That was not what I was asking! But why do you even let them treat you like that? You are not Vergil, for god's sake! You are not responsible for his mess!" He knew she was furious for his sake. He was grateful for that but it didn't change anything.

"Glad we talked about it," he said and decided to sleep the rest of the evening away.

* * *

Jobs became even more scarce after that. Dante never had thought about having trouble with other hunters. Most of them were not even the real deal so, either some unlucky rookie would get himself killed by a real demon or those con men would ruin their names for not finishing anything. It hadn't mattered to him. He knew he was one of the few real hunters in town and so, business should come to him. Should. Yet it didn't. There were rumors that some of the elder mercenaries blackened his name behind his back, men he had worked with before, a long time ago. Things changed, often times for the worse. How long until he would hit rock bottom? Dante didn't know. Right now, he didn't want to think about it. There were only a few bars that would still welcome him, accepting his lies about paying later. His debt, he realized, was closing in on him. It had surrounded him and would come to hunt him soon.

The few jobs he got paid for didn't change his situation much. Most of the money went straight into Lady's bottomless pocket, the rest… well. As run down as it was, Dante had to pay the bills for his office/home and once in a while, he had to clear his tab at his favorite pizza delivery service or they would ignore his calls. If that left him anything, he would carry it into the next bar to gamble. His rotten luck was infamous and if it wasn't for his still improving cheating skills, he would have left empty handed every time. That wasn't the kind of life Dante had in mind when he had opened his business. He could deal with the lies, he didn't mind the eyes following him around and he certainly didn't mind slow business now and then as long as he could make ends meet. Nothing of all that was new to him, yet he had the feeling that it got worse every day. Or _he_ was.

If the phone kept silent for too long, Dante went out on his own. The demon inside him could get restless now and then and he dreaded that feeling. The city was crawling with demons and he never had to search very long to find something to keep his blood thirst in check.

Sometimes, people crossed his way that didn't stop at whispering behind his back about the infamous hunter in red. They confronted him with accusations and threats and all he could do was remind himself, that those people were only human, were the ones he wanted to protect; humans he had decided to live along with. They wouldn't believe his story about Vergil's crusade for power; in fact, they didn't even believe his twin brother existed. In those moments, Dante once again wished, his brother had taken his offered hand instead of choosing hell. It made him want to open the doors of hell and drag Vergil back to confront him with the mess he had left his brother to take care of. But Vergil wouldn't take responsibility towards humans. Beneath them, Vergil would say, humans were beneath them. Easy for you to say, Dante thought and turned around to go home. Behind him, another woman, who claimed to have lost her home in the chaos the dark tower had caused cursed him in such a colorful way, it made him frown and bite back a witty comeback.

It was Wednesday evening, as Trish and Lady dropped by his office the next time. Both were surrounded by the certain air of cheerfulness, which always left Dante with the alarming feeling of wariness. Something was not right. He couldn't quite put his finger on it yet, as they kept chatting about all kinds of insignificant things. Maybe they had done something. Did _she say new shoes right now?_ His thoughts wavered between sinking back into sweet, ignorant carelessness and paying attention to what the two were talking about. He cracked one eye open and glanced at them from his sanctuary, formed be a colorful magazine of sports cars. He couldn't care less about new shoes girls seemed to like so much. It was a mystery to him anyway. They always acted like they had found the ultimate piece of footwear, stuffed in stale smelling cardboard boxes and made a huge deal out of it. But oh surprise, this treasure lost its value almost immediately and the quest to find the perfect shoe began anew. He dreaded shoe shopping but the only time Lady had convinced him to tag along had taught him one and one thing only. Shoes were ridiculously expensive. They wouldn't buy them and send him the bill, would they? They had done something like that before. – No, he decided, that wasn't it. There was no nervous glance in his direction, no trace of guilt or even mischievousness. So a new prank? But then, Lady let the cat out of the bag.

"Hey Dante, are you listening?" No, he hadn't been. All the talk about cross-strapped ballerinas in colors he never had heard of had made his mind retreat again.

"No," he admitted without feeling ashamed about it.

"About The Pit," she said and her cheerfulness dimmed down like a candle drowning in too much wax. The Pit was a local bar and, more important, his favorite spot to meet the other mercenaries and middle men. If everything failed, he could always go there to get one of the jobs the middle men had to offer. The pay wasn't great but it was always better than nothing. "You better keep your distance for a while." That got his attention all right. The magazine hit the desktop with a snap at the same spot his boots had been a moment ago. He crossed his arms on the polished wood.

"Why? Place closed?" The girls exchanged looks with each other as to debate silently who should tell him.

"No. They kind of – uhm – banned you from there," Lady said finally.

"For now," Trish added almost a bit too hasty.

"Yeah, for now. So, it's no big deal." They looked at him expectedly.

"And you were sent here to deliver the message?" Dante concluded and fixed his eyes on Lady, although he was talking to both of them. Sometimes, he thought it easier to read her. She didn't say anything to answer his question, but the look in her eyes told him enough. "I see. Well, the place was a run down hole anyway." He leaned back again and pretended to have lost his interest in the matter but he saw the look the girls exchanged again from the corner of his eyes.


End file.
